A poetry collection – by Jason Visconti

I Can’t Write Anything For The Wind How will I hymn a song for an audience that will not come to gather? How will I love into the words when a man can’t acknowledge its adventure, the heave and then the whisper of its orchestra, where chords will drill the trees or lick the awnings?…

A poetry collection by Beth Gordon

Unquestioned Loyalty I’m not going to pay for groceries this week, not when my neighbors discarded half-rotted vegetables in the common garbage dumpster.   I’ll go for vodka and rob the gas station.  Please just do what I say.    I didn’t know my wife was pregnant, she didn’t want to tell me until she was sure. …

A poetry collection – by Jon Bennett

When You Dream Your Teeth Fall Out   I finally fell asleep next to a person it’d been 7 years I took lorazepams to do it but then I had a nightmare There’s a subconscious man in me, I guess and he started saying “There is a body next to you, a body next to…

Anniversaries / Famine – by Autumn Toennis

Anniversaries   I carry anniversaries in my hollow bones – rolled calendar dates of marrow-stained Firsts and calcified Lasts.   I course with Effigies.   Famine   We went hungry to our pillows, and I found salt on my cheek this morning, a thin line   of sand shaken from my eye to the smallest…

A poetry collection – by Paul Tristram

Dogs With No Tails   They hang around the back lane of The Salvation Army all morning. Twelve of them, used to be twenty three last Summer but the Welsh Winters are merciless and unrelenting. Prison and hyperthermia take more people off the street than cirrhosis or cancer. All high level, top shelf chronic alcoholics….

A poetry collection – by Bryony Wharfe

Change I’m sick of making every choice, fed up of all this change, all I ever hear is my own voice, it’s been so long it’s starting to sound strange. Lately nothing feels right, everything is blurred together, like wearing someone else’s glasses, and trying to see through this rainy weather. I just want to…

A poetry collection – by Anne Whitehouse

REPRISE Traveling twelve miles from Bessemer to Birmingham, my grandparents visited us on Sunday afternoons, sitting stiffly side by side with my parents, until I led Grandma by the hand to my room. The door closed, we snuggled on my bed.   I nestled in the circle of her arms, my small hands stroking her…

A Ghost Revisited: The Nurse With the Dirty Knees – by John Dorroh

She appeared as an anemic ghost, tapered A-frame dress with horizontal black-and-white stripes, which threw off her frame quite a bit. It was an appropriate fit for her.   The neighborhood boys waited at the curb in an old gray Chevy, hungry for details with what I’d do with her once I fumbled with my…

A poetry collection by Lise Colas

Loose Horse Ahead of the field, running wild but still with the pack, little does she know she will not win anything–her rider is way back, unseated at the canal turn, still kicking his tiny legs in the air. She stretches out her neck, and gallops on–a defiant hazard, as clods of mud fly around,…

A poetry collection by Renee Drummond-Brown

Black Bodies ‘Swangin’ Abel Meeropol proclaims strange fruit’s common in the South. But Father, on this very day the North, East and West practices ‘summadat’ same ole same ole mess. Yeah, I’d say on any given “Holiday” Billie that ‘iz’; them black holes been ‘sportin’ ‘SUM’ strange fruit at its best these days. The more…

The Resident Poet – by Tony Milligan

(An everyday tale of biker folk.) Big bad Bob sashayed into the Biker bar ‘Evenin’ y’all’ he said to no one in particular then he burped, farted and weaved his way to the bar. ‘Hey, let’s have a goddamn beer over here’ he bawled. A beer appeared served by a nervous bar keep. Bob looked…